


All of This

by SarcasmFish (Alcyonidae)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, F/M, Light Angst, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 05:16:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6225460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alcyonidae/pseuds/SarcasmFish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair, still reeling from his losses at Ostegar, arrives in Lothering.  His fellow Grey Warden needs help adjusting to her new life outside the Circle of Magi while all he wants to do is crawl off to mourn alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All of This

Alistair paused as the mage beside him began to slow and fall behind. They had just entered Lothering after several days of walking. It was a busy weekend market day. There were carts and impromptu tables setup along the different roads entering the city and the locals wandered among them with baskets slung along their arms or backs. No one noticed a few new worn down travelers entering the town.

He watched her eyes dart from the people, to tables, to wares and to animals being sold. It was hard to forget she had just days ago come from a tower with no windows. He could only imagine how heavy and overwhelming this all was. He wished he could dig himself out of his own self-pity for a moment to feel a pang of understanding for her.

He coughed at the dust from the road kicked up by the milling people and touched her arm. She snapped out of her reverie and stepped out of the way of flowing traffic with him. She was still wearing her robes from the Circle. There hadn’t been enough time to outfit her with something new.

The robes were too big for her. He wondered why they had sent her away in oversized robes. The hem was tattered and bloody. It brushed the ground as she walked, catching under her feet, causing her to stumble. He caught her by the elbow, preventing her from plummeting into the road. She glanced up at him, mumbling a soft, but genuine thank you. Her sleeves hung down nearly over her hands, forcing her to roll them up several times. She looked too much like an old rag. The staff on her back was equally unsuited. It was old and worn and tripped her up when she stepped over something or caught on branches of trees over her head.

He pulled a small purse of coins from his belt and placed it into her hands.

“Here. Duncan..” he swallowed thickly, the name still ash on his tongue. “Duncan gave me this so we could get you new supplies after…” He glanced to the side, away from her, his voice dropping. “Well, afterward.” He let the sentence stand with its butchered ending. The less he talked about it the better. If she didn’t think he was an idiot yet, well, she would soon enough find out. He may as well get it out in the open now.

“Oh.” She pulled open the top of the purse and pulled out a coin. “What are these?”

He blinked at her for a moment, waiting for her to laugh, to complete the joke at his expense. Why did she look at him like that? Like he would explain. Like he knew all the answers. Hadn’t she figured out he was the stupid one yet? She trusted him far too much for someone she barely knew. He stared at her. When she continued to gaze up at him quizzically he finally stammered a rough, “What?”

“What are these?” She turned the coin over in her fingers, examining the markings on each side. “Some sort of game pieces?” She pulled the sleeve of her robe up again and fished out another coin.

Circle mage. Right. “It’s money. You give it to the merchants in trade for what you want.”

Her eyes brightened and she held the two coins in her palm like he had just given her a historically rare Antivan vase. “Oh! One of the older mages escaped once. He told us he couldn’t get any food because he didn’t have this money.”

He nodded once, eager to be done with this city and this crowd, these people leading their normal, average lives. He needed to crawl off someplace alone to grieve and mourn, to flounder around in his own despair. It wasn’t fair to take his anguish out on her. “Well, it’s all yours now.”

“All of this,” she said in a small voice. She peered into the bag, suddenly somber and unexpectedly sad.

He observed her a moment; too angry, too ruined, too raw to extend himself to feel anything for her mood shift. Instead, he fell back on his comfortable strategy of distraction. “You should buy some new things. I had to pick you up every few feet on the journey here. And you make a rather poor shield.” He tried to make this voice sound light, tried to force that usual charm that got him through so much.

“I can’t help that you walk too fast.” The mage glanced over her shoulder at the merchants lining the street, a little frown forming on her lips. “Also, I’m an elf.”

He stepped forward and took her upper arm, leaning down closer to meet her eyes, suddenly defensive. “No, you’re a Grey Warden,” he said through clenched teeth, the title stressed a little too harshly. She stared back up at him, unflinching and blank. His stomach growled suddenly. He dropped his hand away from her, shifting his gaze back to the market, regretting the forcefulness of the statement.

“We should get some food, too.” The smell of it all was divine. They had only been eating what small game they could catch. He was suddenly aware of just how hungry he was. He briefly allowed himself to fantasize about taking a bite out of every available item.

The mage watched him a moment longer before she turned and strode over to one of the carts laden with baked goods, cheeses, and hanging strips of dried meats. She thrust the bag of coins out to the bearded man who regarded her with suspicion.

“One of everything, please!” she stated.

The noise Alistair made was rather undignified. Maker, save him from this little mage.


End file.
